


Laughing

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris rarely laughs.   Hawke rarely stops.  Yet somehow, the two of them are drawn to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughing

Hawke laughs at everything.

At first it grates on Fenris’ nerves.  Must everything be a joke or a snide remark with her?  They could be standing ankle deep in the blood of cutthroats and mercenaries and she would laugh about needing to go shopping for a new pair of shoes.  He does not understand how she can be so flippant about everything when the world is so gray and stark.

But despite her ready grin and her quick wit, her actions say a different thing about her.  She helps children find their parents, gives money to people starving in the street, helps Fenris hunt down slavers and put them to death.  And though through it all her smile is never far from her lips, he begins to see something deeper behind her eyes.

One night she makes a comment about his looks, just a small string of words about him being handsome.  His face burns and he stammers something gruff back to her, but it startles him to realize how  _pleased_  he is to hear it.  He tries to ignore the thought, though.  Surely it was only another of her jokes.

Yet sometimes when they fight together it seems she fights at his side more and more, keeping enemies off his back, sometimes taking down his opponents before he can even get to them.  He notices she asks him to help patrol more and more often, that she comes to visit him on quiet nights just to talk.  He does not allow himself to think more of it, though; that way is dangerous.

One day he’s knocked flat on his back by a Tal-Vashoth, and his vision flickers in and out, his head spinning.  He can’t get up and though his hand still reaches vaguely for his sword he’s only half-conscious, his breaths quick and shallow.  Of course it had to happen when the wretched healer isn’t with them.  He groans.

He hears Hawke’s yell, a challenge to the Qunari, and he hears a strangled groan from his opponent, the sound of the impact when the body hits the ground.  Then Hawke’s at his side, her hand touching his face.  Her skin is so soft.  He hadn’t realized it would feel so soft.

“Fenris,” she murmurs.  He blinks, trying to steady his vision.  Her face is swimming above his, and though the sight of her is blurry, he can tell she is uncharacteristically pale.  She does not wear her smile.  Her hand brushes his hair out of his eyes with a tenderness that makes him feel almost… safe.  “Fenris, stay with me.  I — we’ll — take care of you, but you have to stay with me.”

“Nice to see you showing some concern,” he coughs.  She stares at him, looking almost offended, and he cracks a weak smile at her through the pain throbbing in his head.  “I was — joking,” he says roughly.

He sees the surprise on her face, and he feels a flicker of satisfaction.  For once she’s the serious one and he’s the one making a joke.  The look of surprise on her face shifts into a small smile, though she still looks worried.

“That’s how I know you’ve taken a bad hit to the head,” she says softly.  “Fenris trying to joke?  Either the world’s ending or he’s brain damaged.”  She strokes his hair again, though it’s no longer in his eyes and there is no reason to do so.

Fenris reaches up slowly, and clumsily covers her hand with his own.  She freezes for a moment, then relaxes.  Her hand is only a little smaller than his, and even with his gloves on, it’s a good fit.  He closes his eyes, feeling somehow stronger.

“Fenris,” she murmurs, and there’s no joke in the way she says his name, her voice gentle and caring and with a warmth he has never heard before.

“Hawke —”

“Here!” Merrill’s voice chirped cheerily above him.  “I’ve got those injury kits, Hawke, we should be able to get him back on his feet.”

“Right!” Hawke says, pulling her hand away from him as if she’d been burned.  Fenris opens his eyes again.  Hawke reaches up to take the supplies from Merrill, her cheeks going pink.  “I’ll take care of things here, Merrill, why don’t you and Aveline keep watch?”

“Of course!” Merrill says, and he hears her footsteps retreating.  Fenris lets his hand drop back to his side, cursing the appearance of the other elf, though he supposes attending to his head injury is a worthwhile endeavor after all.  The pain pulses again as if to remind him.

“Let’s get you fixed up, then,” says Hawke, laughing nervously.  She dabs a poultice onto his temple, her fingers trembling slightly, and helps him sit up, leaving her arm around his shoulders for a fraction of a second longer than needed.  He’s still dizzy but the poultice is helping and the world is beginning to seem steady again.  But the heat of Hawke beside him does not abate.

“Here,” she says, holding a flask up to him.  He clumsily grabs it, swallowing its contents in one gulp.  He lets out a long breath, feeling the effects of elfroot and deep mushroom wash over him.  His breath steadies and the ache in his head fades, leaving only a nagging, mild pain.

“You’re looking better already,” Hawke says.  Her cheeks are still pink, and now that the world is no longer swimming, Fenris reaches up to his face, feeling the spot where her hand lay on his cheek.  What just happened?

“Thanks to you,” says Fenris.  He looks at her for a moment, saying nothing, only noting the way that her hair is tangled and sweaty, the blood spatters on her cheeks and chin and armor, the flush to her skin, the freckles on the end of her nose, her lips turning up just slightly at the edges.  Suddenly he realizes that she is not the only one blushing.

Hawke stares at him, her eyes questioning.  “How are you feeling now?”

“I will live,” Fenris says cautiously.  “I will be able to make it back home.  Again, thanks to you.”

She seems like she is hesitating, anxiously chewing slightly at the edge of her lip as if she wants to say something and does not have the words.  It is most unlike her, and he realizes he wants to see her smile.

He does not know what comes over him.  He only knows that he slips one hand behind her neck beneath her tangled hair and pulls her to him, slanting his mouth over hers in a quick and fumbling kiss.  He lets go of her just as suddenly, averting his gaze, feeling as if he has been electrified.

“I — I don’t know what came over me —” he tries to say, but she smiles, just the way he wanted her to.

“Oh, Fenris,” she sighs, and she kisses him right back before he can protest.

His ears are turning pink and he knows the others will talk and he knows he should not push himself with the way his head still aches but at the moment he does not care.  There’s only him and Hawke, his arms wrapped around her, her mouth soft and wet and warm against his, and when they finally break apart again, she’s laughing, the sound pure and downright happy.  And despite the million reasons he can think of not to do this, despite the urge to run the way he always has, he can’t help but laugh, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was requested to write some Fenris/purple Hawke, I went fluffy! I haven't done his romance yet so this is just a random take on their first kiss.
> 
> (yes almost all of my first kisses take place after some kind of injury I don't have a fetish or anything what)


End file.
